Hell Happened
by Madman007
Summary: A week after the members of Low Shoulder were killed, a detective on the case comes to Devil's Kettle to link the connection from them to Jennifer Check. Between a message from her dead body and an unexpected visitor, he got more than he bargained for.
1. Part One: Off The Record

**Hell Happened**

A _Jennifer's Body_ story

**Disclaimer:** I own none of the characters from _Jennifer's Body _or it's setting. Those are owned by Diablo Cody. Lyrics to _Jenny (867-5309) _written by Tommy Tutone.

**Time frame:** One week after the events of the movie

**

* * *

Part One: Off The Record**

The Ford Focus smelled of KFC, Burger King, and Waffle House coffee all mixed together. This was Detective Morris Samuel's diet for the past eight hours driving from St. Cloud to the small town of Devil's Kettle. Now that he parked in front of the only police precinct in the town, he was glad to escape his portable prison. Morris hated driving. His Chief knew this. But he had to come to Devil's Kettle. Not only was it the focus of several deaths in the past few months, but it had also been a connection to the case Morris was currently working on.

When he exited the car he relished the frigid, yet clean air. The heat in the Focus did it's job but he wished he had an air freshener. He took one look at the one level rectangular-shaped building that acted as Devil's Kettle police department and morgue.

He grimaced and uttered, "No wonder there's been so many deaths here. It's run by the Bates Motel." Which scared him because he hadn't been by the Motel 6 yet to get settled in first. It was almost dusk so he had time to get a pizza and a pack of Bud Light later. First, he had to see the Devil's Kettle Sheriff. He so hoped he had more sense than Andy Griffith.

He entered the building whistling the Andy Griffith Show theme. He cringed because now the tune would not escape his head for the rest of the night. Inside he was greeted by a big-boned female officer behind the counter. She told him to wait a moment. Within a few minutes a hefty ash-haired man appeared from the side hallway. _Not quite Andy Griffith_, thought Morris. More Wilford Brimley.

"Hey, how ya doin'?" He extended his hand and Morris shook it. "Sheriff Carl Nesbit."

"Detective Morris Samuel."

"Glad you could make it. How was your trip?"

"Long and cold."

"Ahhh, this ain't cold. Come January you ought to come up and then we'll talk cold. Come on back to my office." After Morris was led the way through the hall, the sheriff addressed the female officer behind the counter. "Uh, Dina, tell John the detective from St. Cloud is here and have him come on back."

She gave a small nod and the sheriff followed Morris to his office. He offered Morris a seat in front of his desk and then sat in the chair behind it. He leaned back and the chair creaked so much that it sounded like it was going to fall apart at any moment.

Sheriff Nesbit stated, "Well, we've got one helluva case here."

"I'm sorry. We?"

"Yeah. The murders of all them boys. Then the murder of Jennifer Check by her best friend."

"I am familiar with your case. In fact, I believe there's a connection to it with mine. It's the reason why I came up here."

"I thought you came up here because my medical examiner called you."

"If he did, I missed the message. I'm here anyway."

"Well, I'm having him come in soon and tell you about it. I can't make hide nor hair what he says. I hope you can."

Morris assured him, "I was in the forensics department before I became a detective."

"Is that right? Had your own CSI: St. Cloud, eh?"

"Sort of. Did your medical examiner perform an autopsy on Ms. Check?" The sheriff nodded. "What prompted that? Didn't she die of a direct stab wound to the heart?"

"With a box cutter knife."

"So, why the autopsy?"

"Eh, the family wanted it."

"Why?"

"To tell ya the truth, I think they believed their daughter and Needy were doing drugs together."

"But nothing was found."

"Oh, I wouldn't say nothin'. No drugs anyway."

"Then what?"

As if on cue, the sound of knocking was heard and a dark-skinned man with grey flecks in his short-cropped hair appeared in the doorway. He was carrying a manilla folder. "Are you the detective I called from St. Cloud?"

Morris stood to greet the man and answered, "Yes, but don't remember you calling me. I came on my own. I believe our cases are connected.."

The man held out his hand which Morris took and said, "Dr. John Forsam. And you have no idea how connected."

The doctor sat in the chair beside Morris as the detective asked, "So what else did you find on Jennifer Check's body?"

"You read my initial report?"

"I did. Seems cut and dry. Maybe a little too cut and dry."

"What d'ya mean?" asked the sheriff.

"Well, Needy–Anita Lesnicky–had no prior convictions at all, much less murder. She never showed any signs of psychological problems to suggest she could perform murder. Up until that night, of course. Didn't her own boyfriend die that same night?"

"Chip Dove," the doctor supplied. "That's part of the reason I called you. I am aware that you are in charge of the Low Shoulder murders. I'm sure you made the connection between the band and Devil's Kettle."

Morris answered, "The Melody Lane fire. The tragedy that made you famous. I know the reports that the members of Low Shoulder helped people out of the fire. I've researched the band for just a week and can tell you that would be the last thing that band would volunteer for. From what I've heard of their music they were a hack Pop band anyway."

The sheriff cut in, "If I gotta hear that god-damned song of theirs on the radio again, I'm kicking in the radio."

The doctor ignored the sheriff, something it seemed he was used to doing, and he asked Morris, "What kind of connections do you have?"

"For one, we have Needy caught on camera at the hotel the band was killed in. The timing is right before the bodies were discovered. At this time she's only wanted for questioning. There were no prints on the knife we found stuck in the lead singer's gullet. I have a strong suspicion that she's involved. We haven't found her yet though."

"You read the facts about her escape?"

"They seem incredible but I'm sure there's an explanation for it. Someone on the inside."

The sheriff scoffed and said, "That girl hung out with two people and they're both dead. She didn't know anybody on the inside. Anybody who got close to her at the nut factory were kicked half to death."

The doctor stated, "And with what I have to show you, you may have a different definition of incredible."

"What's that mean? What exactly did you find?"

"Are you familiar with DNA blood typing?"

"I am, actually."

"While I was performing the routine typing of Jennifer's blood I found something rather startling. Her type was AB+, which is common enough. But there also was a B- within the same sample."

"Could be any number of reasons why."

The doctor reached into the folder and handed Morris a sheet of paper. "Not this many reasons."

Morris took it and read. "Chip Dove's blood type was B- also."

The sheriff suddenly exclaimed, "Can we please do this without all the mumbo jumbo? Sounds like a damn episode of _Law & Order_ in here."

The doctor sighed and said, "This mumbo jumbo is why the detective is here, Carl."

Morris read further down and his eyes widened. "Are you sure these are correct? _Four_ different blood types in the same sample?"

"Conducted the test three times."

"There are names here of the ones who had each blood type. Who are they?"

"Colin Gray, Jonas Konelle, and Ahmet Surinder."

Morris took a moment before he uttered, "The three male victims. Wait, wasn't Ahmet one of the fatalities of the Melody Lane fire?"

"We thought so until his body was found in the woods near Carmen Street."

The sheriff added, "That street is on the way to Melody Lane. He looked just like the others. Lasagna with teeth."

"They were mutilated, Carl," said Dr. Forsam.

Morris questioned, "So how did all four of the victim's blood end up in Jennifer Check's body?"

"That is the question," the doctor replied. "But there's more."

"More?"

"When I performed the internal exam of the autopsy, I kept noticing hints of several incisions along the lining of her sternum. She had no history of any kind of operation so I looked at the organs carefully. Her stomach especially had signs of puncture wounds."

"I don't understand. Those kind of wounds would be obvious on the outside. I saw none in the post mortem pictures."

"Normally, yes. These wounds were just traces. Almost like they had been..."

"What?"

"Healed...for the lack of a better term."

Morris crinkled his brow. "Dr. Forsam, internal puncture wounds don't just heal."

"I know."

"Uh huh." Morris looked to the sheriff and then to the doctor. "I'm assuming these findings aren't on record."

The sheriff burst out, "You got that right. I ain't having my town turn into the Blair Witch Project."

Morris countered with, "And my name isn't Fox Mulder and there are no X-Files."

The doctor chuckled. "That isn't why I called specifically for you, Detective."

"Then why did you call me?"

"I looked into your background. I know you were stuck in the forensics department wishing for more. I also knew you don't make waves. I would like for you to see her for yourself."

The sheriff added, "Yeah, before it's committed to the ground."

"Before _she_ is committed to the ground, Carl. The body has a name. Show some respect."

"Respect? For the town slut? That bitch got away with everything because she was hot looking. She had several of my officers in her back pocket."

"And it's possible she got away with murder."

Morris added, "And Needy stopped her." He took a moment to ponder that scenario and then shook his head. "No. That's impossible. What killed those boys wasn't human. It couldn't have been Jennifer Check."

The doctor said, "If you see the body, you may change your mind about that."

Morris stated, "Take me to her."


	2. Part Two: The Message

**Hell Happened**

**Part Two: The Message**

Morris had, of course, seen a corpse or a thousand as a member of the forensics department. Blood and guts didn't bother him. Boredom did. Dr. Forsam was right about his wish to be something more. Morris performed tedious tests after tests day in and out. He would always speculate about how his results pertained to the case. He found out that he was hearing the phrase, "That's not your job." way too often. He could only pass the test results to his superiors or the detectives themselves. They were the ones who got to go out and apply the data to their individual cases. Morris wanted to be on that side of the investigation. He set out a few years ago to become a detective.

So when he followed Dr. Forsam into the morgue partition of the building, he didn't cringe upon seeing the dead body of Jennifer Check lying half covered with a sheet on a metal table. As he approached her, the first thing he noticed was her young beauty.

"Wow, she was a knockout."

The doctor bemused, "Now she's just out."

Morris noticed the Y incision where the doctor opened her up to gain access to her organs. She had been obviously put back together now since the incision was closed. She was now ready to be buried honorably.

Dr. Forsam went on. "Yep, the boys certainly took a shine to her. She expected it. She always seemed to be flaunting her body to get what she wanted. Now look at her. Vanity has a steep price."

"All I had were the post-mortem pictures of her and those were black and white. Those don't do her justice."

The doctor shook his head and smiled. "I can't believe it. Even in death Jennifer is still giving the boys a rise to the occasion."

Morris stuttered, "Well...I...I'm not attracted to...well, I'd never be attracted to....you know what I mean."

"Oh, I certainly do. Let's not finish the thought, shall we? Now, for the first mystery, touch her hand."

"And you're not getting a rise out of that?"

The doctor sighed impatiently. "Just touch her hand."

Morris did comply and lifted her dead hand. Instantly, he gasped at the feel. "It's not cold. It's still warm. She's been dead a week?" He let her hand flop to the metal table and her fingers fell loosely. "And rigor mortis hasn't set in yet? What the hell is going on?"

"That's the mystery. I can't explain it. She's definitely dead, but her body is room temperature. As you said it should be much colder. And the lack of rigor mortis...the longest I've seen it set in was a few days. It's been a week. I've been doing this for the past twenty years and I can safely say that I have seen nothing like this."

"And this mystery is what's off the record?"

"Yes. And, frankly, I'd like to keep it that way."

He jerked his head to look at the doctor. "Why?"

The doctor explained. "You can see how small this town is. Before the Melody Lane fire nothing seriously tragic had even happened here. Ever since the fire this place has been a media magnet. With all the tragedy that's happened in the past few months, this kind of information will never go away. Jennifer's parents want to bury their daughter peacefully. If we report these strange findings on her body, we take that peace away from them."

"So we're just going to ignore it?"

"Ignore what? That we have proof of the supernatural?"

"Wait, wait, wait....that's not what we have here. We don't know what it is."

"And being the former scientist that you are, we have no evidence to disprove it. Detective Samuels–"

"Morris, please."

"Morris, I don't have to tell you that humans can deny the truth about anything despite having the facts in front of them that prove the truth." He gestured to Jennifer's body. "To bring this to the public's attention would make things even more uncomfortable for this town and especially for her family." He paused before he stated, "However, I do have something you can use in your case." He handed Morris another sheet of paper. "I conducted a series of tests on those cuts I found on her organs and on the lining of her sternum. The cuts suggest a steel blade anywhere from six to eight inches in length. It made clean, smooth cuts on only one side. And they looked to be more like quick stabs rather than meticulous cuts."

"Six to eight inches. Cuts only on one side of the blade. I'd say a Bowie knife."

"Good assumption."

"The same weapon that was used in the Low Shoulder murders."

Without giving any acknowledgment, Dr. Forsam said, "I included these series of cuts in my official autopsy report. I concluded that the cuts were done so quickly that no scars could be visible on the outside."

"Or that Jennifer herself did well to hide them."

The doctor chuckled. "You know her better than me somehow. I never even thought of that. I wouldn't put it past her to smear makeup all over the scars."

The door to the room cracked open and Sheriff Nesbit poked his head in. "John, the missus is on Line 2."

"I'll take it in my office, Carl." The sheriff disappeared and the doctor looked at Morris to ask, "Will you be all right here for a bit?"

"Go ahead. I know about answering the wife quickly. It'll just be Jennifer and I."

As he walked away, the doctor said, "Don't let her talk your ear off."

And just like that, Morris was alone with the corpse of Jennifer Check.

Morris took another glance at the blood work done on her. His eyes were beginning to become out of focus. He could still see the image of the moving yellow lines on the highway after eight hours of driving. He placed the paper back in the folder and decided he would look at them in the morning. That pizza and the Bud Light were calling to him. His wife never let him to indulge in his old college diet.

He stared at the serene body of Jennifer. She was a hottie, to use current teen-speak. He eased closer to her.

_To _it_, Morris. She's not alive._

Yet...something compelled him closer. An energy drew him to her. She was so sensual. So alluring. He had seen countless dead bodies in his lifetime. Why was this one so special? He looked down at her full lips. Were they still red from lipstick?

_Or from blood?_

Something took over his sense of morality. Before he eased closer to her face, he quickly checked for signs of the doctor's return. No one in sight. Morris looked back at the lips. Red as rubies.

_Just one touch. No harm in that._

His mind was not his own when he bent down closer. And closer. His lips now hovered over hers. He eased further just enough. There was no breath coming from her. But there was a mystical energy. He had to now. No choice. His conscience screamed at him to refuse. The energy wouldn't allow him to. Finally, their lips touched.

Instantly, images flashed before him in his mind. Images of death.

Jennifer, alive, was tied to a tree stump in the woods surrounded by men. He recognized them as Low Shoulder. The lead singer held a knife–a Bowie knife–high above her. They were singing something. _I got it....I got it...for a good time....for a good time call...867-5309. _He stabbed. And stabbed again. And again. Jennifer's screams were loud. And then they became...inhuman.

Another image was Jennifer walking at night against the pale moon. Her clothes were torn and a bloody mess. A series of images went by of each victim. Their bodies were mutilated. There was an image of Jennifer kneeling before one of them. A boy now reduced to a carcass. She was scooping out the insides with her hand. She drank from her hand.

_Blood._

Another image was of Jennifer coming at him as if he were a victim. Her eyes were yellow. She opened her mouth to reveal large sharp teeth. Inhuman teeth.

The next image was Jennifer lying on a bed with a box cutter knife sticking out of her chest. She lay there quietly. Peaceful. Until she opened up her eyes. They were no longer yellow. They were human again. She whispered, "Tell Monistat, thanks."

Morris pulled away from her quickly and the images ended. He mentally shook himself. There would be no way to purge those images out of his head. They were embedded deep inside him now. He breathed deep to catch his breath.

"Morris?" A sudden cry interrupted his thoughts.

He looked up to see Dr. Forsam at the doorway. "Yes, uh...I was looking closer...to inspect her...uh..."

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Maybe I did," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Perhaps you should give it a rest for the night. I know how tiring driving can be."

_He didn't see me. Me, trying to kiss a...Was that me? What is going on?_ "You may be right. This is all too much."

"Well, I wasn't going to keep you much longer. That report you have there is a copy, so it's yours to keep. I'll leave it up to you how to link this to the Low Shoulder murders."

"I have no doubt they're directly related now."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Uh..." He could have told him he received images from the dead body of Jennifer when he tried to–no, that would open up a slew of other questions. Instead, he chose a typical detective's cop-out. "Just instinct."

"Ah, well, I'll let you alone for the night. I'm about to go home myself. If you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to call me in the morning. My number is in the file there."

"Thanks. This will be very helpful. Right now, though, I need a drink."

The doctor laughed. "If I haven't been sober for four years, three months, and five days, I would join you." Morris walked passed him, taking a last look at the dead Jennifer. The doctor locked the door to the morgue. "But, alas, it's not to be. I wish you a good night then."

Morris thought of those strange images that flashed through his mind. He stopped to order a pizza and went into the liquor store nearby and got a Bud Light sixer. He decided he needed something stronger that night and grabbed his old buddy, Jack. Maybe a deep buzz would eliminate those grisly images.


	3. Part Three: The Visitor

**Hell Happened**

**Part Three: The Visitor**

Several hours later, Morris was in his motel room that had seen better days. It didn't matter much at that point. His stomach was full of pizza mixed with a few Bud Light's. For the past hour he had been sitting at the small table in front of the room's only window with his buddy, Jack. He needed this now after what he saw. He poured another healthy portion of Jack in the plastic cup. The ice he put in had already melted. He didn't care.

Was it real? Had Jennifer Check become something inhuman? Was that how those boys were mutilated? He no longer could tell reality from the impossible. Of course, Jennifer was inhuman. She was an attractive teenage cheerleader. How evil can a girl get?

But no. Those images told another story. She _became_ something. It started when she was tied up to the stump by Low Shoulder. Almost like she was to be sacrificed. Certainly, things of the occult happened these days. With all the damned vampire movies and those insane _Saw_ sequels, Morris wouldn't put it past people to act out rituals of the supernatural. Yet those were works of fiction. This was reality.

_Or was it?_

Something compelled him to put his lips onto Jennifer's. He would never cheat on his wife. She was beautiful on her own and not just in looks. Yet, he couldn't stop from kissing Jennifer's dead lips. Almost as if something wanted him to. Or needed him to.

_Tell Monistat thanks. _Was it a message from Jennifer?

He gulped a few sips of Jack. It was too crazy of a thought to experience sober. The wind outside picked up and interrupted the quiet. He turned off the TV a while ago. In the midst of the silence, he could hear a faint scratching noise coming from the door. He set his cup down and went to the door to open it. The cold air hit him and he shivered. There was nothing else there. He shrugged and closed the door gently. He took his cup and went over to the sink on the opposite wall. He plopped a few more ice cubes into the cup.

He then suddenly heard a gust of wind and felt the cold air again.

He did a quick about-face and saw that the door was closed now, but apparently had been open for a brief moment.

Long enough to let her in.

She simply stood before him. Standing. Glaring. Her sweatshirt hood was over her face but it didn't hide her identity. Her eyes were sullen. Her skin was pale. She almost looked dead herself. Yet, she stood there. Alive.

He spoke first. "Hello, Anita–Needy. Come on in."

"You should lock your door next time."

"I'll remember that. What have you been up to, Needy?"

"That's not who I am anymore." She spoke in a firm monotone voice.

"You certainly fit her description. Especially the image we have on a camera at the last hotel where Low Shoulder stayed."

"Looks can be deceiving."

"All right, so you're not Anita Lesnicky anymore. Who are you now?"

"Something that Jennifer made me into."

He edged slowly toward his gun holster sitting on the TV counter. He spoke in a calm tone to keep her from being suspicious. "Oh, so you're going to blame the dead on your condition?"

"My condition? You sound like I have diabetes."

"Then what is it? What did Jennifer make you into? The better question is what was Jennifer made into first?"

"You're not ready for that answer."

"Why do you say that?"

"Cuz you're inching your way towards your gun."

Immediately, he lunged for his gun on the counter but she was faster. All the way from the door she was somehow _faster_. His hand landed on hers that grabbed the gun. She took her other hand and swung it across his face. It felt as if someone threw a brick at him. He went down to the floor backwards. She was strong. Very strong. He rubbed his jaw and saw her standing over him.

"Yes, I'm strong. Like Terminator strong. So let's not piss me off, ok? Besides, I don't know how guns will affect me and I don't want to find out. Or maybe I do. Why are you here?"

"Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."

"Me? I guess you could say I was summoned."

Morris furrowed his brow. "By who?"

"You should know." After a pause, she blurted out, "How did she taste?"

"What?"

"How do dead lips taste, you freak?"

"I...don't know what you're talking about."

She sighed heavily. "Men, they can't lie worth crap. You know exactly what I mean. Jennifer's lips. You kissed them. Like, what are you, a necrophiliac?"

He quickly discovered that he could no longer deny it. "How...how did you know? How could you know?"

"Jen and I...we were close friends. She manipulated all the boys in town and intimidated all the girls. We were friends because I was the only person who wouldn't give in to her crap."

"If you were such good friends, why did you kill her?"

Needy answered softly, "To save her from herself."

He picked himself up from the floor to stand up as he commented, "No wonder they had you committed." She made to swing at him again but he held up his hands and cried, "Wait! Truce. I'm sorry. But I'm the one in the dark here. You are wanted for questioning in the murders of Low Shoulder. You should be in hiding but you came back here to accuse me of necrophilia. You should be on your way to Mexico by now."

"I don't think I want to got to Mexico. I only got a C this year in Spanish."

"Canada? They speak English there. Mostly. Some speak French."

"Like I'd tell you where I'm going. You never told me why you kissed Jennifer's dead lips."

"Honestly, I couldn't tell you. I don't know myself. Something...drew me into her."

"What, like your libido?"

"No. I love my wife. I would never cheat on her."

"You could cheat with Jennifer's corpse. Who's she gonna tell?"

"Look, that's the last thing I would do. When I touched her lips I began to see images. Bad ones. Jennifer was being sacrificed. Jennifer covered in blood. And Jennifer sitting over a carcass of a boy and drinking his blood from her hands. You have to believe me."

"I do."

"What does all that mean?"

"She was showing you what happened to her."

"How? She's dead."

"Hey, I don't know how all this works either. I'm kinda new at this. It's not like we can take Evil 101." She paused and asked, "Was there anything else in those images?"

"Yes. She whispered something to me. _'Tell Monistat thanks.'_"

The phrase seemed to hit her like someone hit her with a brick. She leaned back against the TV counter. She put her hands over her face. She started sobbing.

"I take it you're Monistat. I thought Monistat was a feminine–"

"It is!" she cried from under her hood. She removed her hands to reveal tear filled eyes to explain, "It was her nickname for me. And I called her Vagisil."

"I know that you're sad that she's gone."

"You know, the funny thing is that I'm really not. I mean, I'm not like shiny happy people about it. I guess I'm more...relieved."

"Relieved that you killed your best friend?"

"Whatever I killed that night, it wasn't Jennifer. It had her body and borrowed her personality. But it wasn't her."

"And Low Shoulder was the cause of that?"

"Those stupid assholes. They tried to sacrifice a virgin so they could be superstars. But Jennifer wasn't a virgin. By a long shot. And I told them that night that she was. It's all my fault. But, hey, they should have taken one look at Jennifer and realized, duh, she can't be a virgin. I mean, I was trying to protect her. I told them she was a virgin because I thought they were going to rape her. How was I supposed to know they were going to sacrifice her to Satan?"

"How does her not being a virgin fit into this?"

"I looked it up later. If you sacrifice a non-virgin, a demon possesses the soul of the victim."

"Jesus, are you listening to yourself speak?"

"Yes. Are _you_ listening at all? Because, newsflash, Dick Tracy, this is all true."

"I know how grief can eat at you. But this is insane."

"Is it? Then explain all those images you saw. Explain how I felt the energy of Jennifer's lips touching yours from miles away. And while your at it, explain this." She suddenly unzipped her sweater jacket and peeled back her shirt on the left shoulder.

He moved closer to examine her bare skin. There was a reddish ring of a scar in the shape of a bite mark. "What bit you?"

"Not what. Who. Jennifer did this to me before I killed her on her bed. And I know what you're thinking. No human could ever make a bite mark that big. The answer is B. Jennifer wasn't human since the night of the Melody Lane fire. She was a succubus that needed blood to survive and look good. She mutilated Amhet, Jonas, and Colin. All boys. Typical Jennifer." She pulled up her shirt and covered with her sweater jacket. Her voice cracked as she said, "She would have mutilated Chip if I hadn't gotten there in time. I was still too late. She still killed him."

"But you stopped her," he said absently.

"I had to. I had to stop her from killing. At least, that's what I thought." She sniffed and rubbed her nose on her jacket sleeve. "Turns out I saved her soul." She broke down in heavy sobs as she said, "And...she...thanked me for doing it."

He moved to hold her as she sobbed into his shoulder. "It's all right. I know you did what you thought you had to do." His other hand dropped to the TV counter. "But I've got to do what I have to." There was a click sound and she parted from his shoulder to look down at his gun pointed at her abdomen. "I have to take you in, Needy."

"And then what? I can explain again what happened? You know where they'll send me right back. I'll escape again."

"You're not invincible."

"Maybe I am. Except for one weakness."

"What's that?"

"Same as every girls' weakness. The heart. It's like Kryptonite to us. That's how I killed the succubus in her. Metal blade through the heart. Just like the book said." She froze for a moment as she looked down at the gun and wondered, "I wonder if that'll kill me now. Let's find out." She suddenly grabbed the gun over top his hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna see if this will really kill me. Maybe I can heal from a bullet wound."

She tried to get him to pull the trigger but they each struggled with the gun still pointed at her side. "No, this is crazy. Let go of the gun, Needy. This is dangerous."

"Why? It's only a puny .38. Won't do too much damage. And if it does, maybe I can heal like Jennifer could. You know, I saw her cut herself deep on her arm. It healed right up in seconds. Think that'll happen to me?"

"Let's not find out. Come on, let go!"

"No! I want to. If I heal I'll know how powerful Jennifer made me. If I don't, well, I can be with Jennifer again in that sandbox in the sky."

"No. Needy, stop this before–"

The gun fired. She was right about a .38 not doing too much damage. That all depended on where the shot went. The sound didn't go higher than that of a bottle cap. Needy's face froze in a sudden shock of pain. She stumbled backwards and placed her hand near her side. Blood began to spill onto her sweatshirt jacket. She fell to the floor.

Morris gasped, "Are you hurt?"

"Hello! Duh! Yes! You shot me!"

"It was an accident. You struggled too much. And I thought that's what you wanted."

"Well, I never get what I want, do I? I'm not like Jennifer. I would like to have my friend back. I'd like to hold Chip in my arms one last time. But crap in one hand, wish in the other and see which one fills up faster."

"You're in shock. Can I see the wound?" She lifted up her jacket to show the bloody wound. "It went right through you. Doesn't look like it hit any organs. You're losing blood though. I'm going to call 911." He went over to the phone and was about to lift up the receiver when she called out.

"Wait!"

"What? Why?"

"I can feel it."

"Yeah, pain."

"No. Energy. And it sorta tingles." She started to giggle. The giggle turned into a laugh. She closed her eyes and exclaimed, "Oh my God. I feel it, Jennifer. I know the power you felt."

Totally in confusion was Morris, who asked, "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"This," she said as she lifted up her jacket to where the wound was. Blood was covered all over the small wound. Suddenly, the blood began to recede back. It was going back _into_ the wound. It was getting smaller. Disappearing. Within seconds, the wound was no more. Her skin now looked like it had never been touched.

Morris stood there staring bewildered. Did that just happen? Did he just see what he saw? Before he could form an answer–did he even have an answer?–Needy lifted herself up and stood as if nothing happened.

She dusted herself off after she lowered her jacket, which still had blood stains from a wound that was no more. She quipped, "Well, that question's answered. Another one of Jennifer's powers that I inherited. I really hope I don't develop a taste for boy flesh in the next month. I really want to stick to my new vegetarian diet." She looked at him staring at her with his mouth gaping. "Are you all right? I mean, you did just witness a major _Bewitched_ moment."

"This isn't real."

"Uh, yeah it is. Trust me, I had my doubts before I saw it with my own eyes. Of course, I don't think you should put this in your report. They may just put you in a padded cell."

"Next to yours when they catch you."

"They won't."

"Wherever you go, we will find you."

"No they won't. There's nothing left of Needy Lesnicky to find. She's gone. Just like Jennifer." Her voice broke at the end.

"But you killed Jennifer. No matter what else she was. To the world and the authorities she was human and you committed murder."

"The Jennifer I knew died the night of the Melody Lane fire. The last time I saw her was when she got into Low Shoulder's van."

She started to walk towards the door when he called out to ask her, "What the hell happened to you girls?"

She turned her head back at him and replied, "That's exactly what happened. Hell." She opened the door and left.

He ran to the door and opened it and called out, "Needy." He looked around the parking lot. She disappeared into the night. How did she disappear within a few seconds? Yet another mystery that may not be solved.

He closed the door and locked it this time. He flopped down into the chair next to the small table. He reached for his friend, Jack. He didn't bother with the cup. He tipped the bottle up to his mouth and took a long swig.

He was alone again. Alone with his thoughts and questions.


	4. Epilogue: Aftermath

**Hell Happened**

**Epilogue: Aftermath**

Morris didn't get up until mid morning thanks to his buddy, Jack. The visitor he had the previous night may have also been the cause of his sleeping in. His head was pounding with a hangover. He hastily gathered all of his things and collected trash in a bag to take out.

The room's phone rang. He went to answer it. "Hello."

"Morris. Dr. Forsam. I was waiting for your call this morning. I had to track you down."

"That couldn't have been too hard."

"Yeah, not many motels here. You all right? You sound tired."

"Had a rough night. What's up?"

"Well, first I wanted to see if you thought of a connection between Jennifer Check and Low Shoulder."

"I gave it a lot of thought last night and I think I came up with one. The evidence I have suggests that Low Shoulder may have tried to rape Jennifer Check on the night of the fire. She got away but not before she was cut with a Bowie knife as she escaped. Jennifer wasn't the same after that. She went out and killed those boys. When she went after Needy's boyfriend, Chip, Needy got jealous and she and Jennifer fought on Jennifer's bed. In a jealous rage, Needy stabbed Jennifer in the heart with the box cutter. Since Needy knew Low Shoulder tried to rape her friend, she set out for revenge and killed them too." Morris waited for the doctor to laugh in his face with such an outlandish theory.

Instead, Dr. Forsam came back with, "Sounds plausible to me. I'll make sure I add that 'proof' of the attempted rape in my official report. That'll change the public's view of the band."

"Maybe it will stop the radio from playing that damn song."

"I hope so. Speaking of Needy, we had a visit from her last night."

Morris gulped. "You did?"

"Yeah. She broke into the morgue last night. Our security cameras caught her on tape approaching Jennifer Check's body. She started crying over her and, get this, she _kissed_ her. Can you imagine that?"

"Uh...no. That's kind of weird."

"I know. Who does that?"

Morris had a horrific thought. "Do you have the entire day on tape?"

"Oh, no. We only turn it on after hours. Helps our budget. I guess she wanted to pay her last respects."

After he breathed silent relief, Morris replied, "Well, she and Jennifer were best friends. They had a strong bond together."

"How do you figure that?"

Since Morris didn't want to divulge that he spoke directly to the source on the previous night, he chose the same detective cop-out. "I read between the lines, doctor." He changed the subject quickly. "What else did Needy do?"

The doctor sighed and answered, "She turned straight into the camera and flipped us the bird. There's no sign of her now."

"Her mother must be beside herself."

"Actually, Needy's mother has been beside a cheap bottle of vodka since her daughter killed Jennifer Check."

Morris looked over at the near empty bottle of Jack on the table. He was reminded of the throbbing inside his head.

The doctor went on. "Will this tape help your case any?"

"It just might. It'll show her anguish over killing her best friend. And it can show that she blamed Jennifer's actions on Low Shoulder and why she set out for revenge on them. Can you send me a copy?"

"What about stopping by here before you go? I can make you a copy."

"I want to head back as soon as possible."_ And get a bottle of aspirin in me_, he mentally thought.

"I understand. Do you think Needy will be caught again?"

"If she is, they'll have a hard time keeping her. I think Anita "Needy" Lesnicky is officially gone now. Nothing can harm her anymore."

"Let's hope she doesn't harm herself first. Well, Detective Samuel, it's been a pleasure."

"It's been an experience, Dr. Forsam."

"I'll send you a copy of that footage by the end of the week. Have a safe trip back and good luck."

"Thanks, doc."

He put down the phone after the doctor ended the line.

Alone again.

He went over to the bottle of Jack and added it to the bag of garbage. When he bent down, he found the bullet slug from his .38 encased into the side of the TV counter. Surrounding it were splatters of blood. Needy's blood. Having been exposed to forensics in his past, he dug out his evidence kit from his bag. He collected the slug from the wood and scraped off a sample of blood. He bagged them both and tucked them inside the kit. He cleaned up the rest of the blood and smoothed over the hole the slug made.

Someday, when he found the time, he would analyze the samples of Needy's blood. Off the record. He knew he wouldn't find evidence of her slaughtering the members of Low Shoulder. She had only used the knife. What he thought he would possibly find was the key to her quick healing ability. It made him think of the chance for immortality. Could it be possible?

Perhaps he was fooling himself. He knew that he was very much a mortal. Needy could no longer hold her best friend, Jennifer, nor her beloved Chip. Jennifer and Needy were not as immortal as they thought. Hell had a way of seducing them into that false belief. Morris didn't know reality anymore. What he did know was that he wanted nothing more than to go home to his beautiful wife and hold her in his arms for as long as he could.

THE END.


End file.
